


Fresh Cookies, Every Sunday.

by cryinghoe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad at tagging, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Hunters, Ghosts, Mention Of Nazi’s, Original Characters and Everything, Other, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:09:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryinghoe/pseuds/cryinghoe
Summary: Money was something every human wanted. It was the only way to survive in an economy and in life. That was the true reason for Via's Spirits.





	1. 1923.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is based off a note in my Notes app! It was originally a short little alternate universe thing and now it’s this! Have fun reading <3

Harps and violin had played in perfect harmony, it had created a heartbeat in the large room. Stained glass created colorful streams of light in the church as people scrambled to find a seat in the wooden booths. The priest stood in the front, with his pale skin creased from smiling as he watched people settle down. Today, a wedding of two young people took place, the room had been bubbling with excitement. Men wore suits, from beige to black with their hair slicked back. Women wore dresses with corsets underneath, maintaining the delicate image. Silence began to blanket the room as the blonde groom walked forward. He had his head held high as he made his way to the left side of the priest, shaking gloves hands with him.

The church was gorgeous. Murals of Jesus covered the sides, depicting many situations. Rose petals laid across the white aisle, being highlighted by the hanging lights. Wooden booths held too many people, thighs touching thighs and shoulders touching shoulders. Everyone watched as the groomsmen and bridesmaids walked delicately side-by-side, smiles plastered on their faces. But, nobody was quite as beautiful as his bride.

Dark hair that fell to her small waist, white lace surrounding her lithe body, light makeup accenting her face and chocolate optics that he could swim in for hours. Everyone rose at the sight of her, collectively taking soft gasp as she walked past them with her father at her shoulder. Her delicate face hidden behind lace was kissed by her father as he sat down and she walked to the aisle.

“Today, we gather here for the marriage of John Snyder and Catherine Aarons…” The priest dawled on as the groom gathered her small hands into his large ones.  
“You look…” John exhaled as he looked over her again.  
“Breath-taking? The bees knees? Cat’s pajamas?” Catherine teased, he could make out her smile from behind her veil.  
“You name it, sugar.” He crookedly smiled, only to hear her laugh softly.

The words of the priest were background noise to their quiet conversation. John could feel her love, it felt like hot heaps of red stars. They burned their mark, took hold of him and wouldn’t let go until they exploded, like stars do. But only more took their places-- He always felt confident when saying that she loved him.

“You may say your vows.” The priest looked to the happy couple, watching them both stand upright and John flush visibly red-- there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Catherine was blushing as well.

“Where can I start,” John laughed, “She’s like a gun. She aims for excellence, she fires and goes for the kill. She’s also my favorite weapon.”

The crowd laughed, but so did she. He could only focus on her serenous laugh, a warm smile growing upon his face.

“She’s more than that, though. Catherine is… everything a man could ever want and more. She loves me so confidently and so happily that I don’t think there could ever be another woman who could even compare. I love you so much, Catherine,” He squeezed her hand, “I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

“I-” Catherine sighed shakily, tears had struck her, “I love you so much, John. I… I am usually very good with words,” She laughed at her self deprecation to come, “But… I just don’t know what to say. You make me feel adored, loved, cherished… You’re the sun compared to the stars, you’re the Queen Bee to the working bees… I love you. I can’t say it enough…”

The words were few, but he knew what she felt. He knew by the way her eyes had been staring the whole time and her hands fidgeted in his. Whenever she was nervous, she clung to him… It was something his heart swelled at.

“...Your vows were truly beautiful,” The priest complimented, “Do you, John Snyder, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” He looked to the priest, and then back to Catherine, who was sniffling.

“Do you, Catherine Aarons, take this man to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her as long as you both shall live?” He turned to the shorter woman, who gathered herself quickly.

“Yes, yes, I do!” The brunette nodded.

“By the authority vested in me by the State of Germany, I now pronounce you man and wife.” The priest clasped his hands together, stepping away.

John lifted her veil slowly, eyes widening as she blinked her tears away. Her face was glowing in the light, he swore that she was an angel. She looked how he imagined heaven would look when he passed on. Before he could kiss her, she had pushed her lips to his, standing upon her tiptoes. His hands grasped onto the dips in her waist as she held his head.

She pulled back, only to be lifted off of her feet and she laughed happily as her feet kicked in the air, laughing as he carried her away, smiling down at her.


	2. 2017.

The brunette carefully tiptoed through the hallways, Doc Martens making soft thuds against wooden floors. The house was beautiful-- a Victorian themed house in Germany. It was quite a distance from Alaska, her spine had been complaining the entirety of the plane ride.

She hadn’t been expecting to do this. She wanted a degree in Marine Biology, but there was something undeniable about the chills she would get down her sides every time she walked into her cozy apartment. Or that small eery restaurant on Wells Avenue. The woman did receive her degree in Marine Biology, having a framed degree that hung up on her apartment wall in Alaska. This job also wasn’t a part of her plans, unlike moving back to her hometown in small Wisconsin was.

Money was something every human wanted. It was the only way to survive in an economy and in life. That was the true reason for Via's Spirits. Olivia had wanted more money than what an organizer at Barnes & Nobles could offer. This job came with so much adrenaline and interesting findings. She was extremely skeptical until she was being dragged down the hallway by an unknown force in Miami, Florida. (It was not as fun as Paranormal Activity 3 makes it out to be). A small couple from Germany had stumbled upon her Instagram account and begged for her help.

“Hey,” The tall woman breathed out into the hallway, reaching into her coat pocket for her detector, “As you may know, people are living in your home.”

Dead silence.

“I’m not one of them. My name is Olivia Dior,” She speaks slowly, stopping in the middle of the dark hallway where the moonlight shone through the window, “I know that there’s another entity here, as well. Mrs. Snyder, are you here with me? Striking this detector of mine up to red would mean yes.”

Her thumb flicked the ON button of the EMF recorder. Within seconds, it lit from green to red. Unlike most cases, the light didn’t flicker, it remained at solid red. The air was chilling around Olivia, causing gooseflesh to rise upon her uncovered arms. It felt like there were ice hands on her, creeping up her arms and resting on her shoulders. There was a sudden weight at her shoulders, as if someone’s hands were resting on them. This was uncommon… The ghost never got this close. Never.

“Mrs. Snyder, would you like to talk to me?”

The light flickered red.

“Great, good,” The woman nervously sighed, “I’ll begin with some questions. I’m going to use my spirit box in order to communicate with you.”

There was a moment of silence-- Olivia took it. She set the EMF detector down on the table in front of the widow, the light remaining on red. She grasped the spirit box with her left hand, clammy hands twisting the nobs to the proper station, “Answer to the best of your abilities, please. Are you Mrs. Snyder?”

“Yes.” A womanly voice clearly spoke through the loud static.

“How did you die?” Olivia asked, closing her eyes. This was so much evidence.

“Shot,” The voice crackled now, “Shot by a Nazi.”

“When did you die?” 

“19… 19… 1940? 1939?” The voice repeated years, but couldn’t seem to decide between the two.

“Can you tell me more?” The woman asked, turning her head to look around. There was absolutely nothing around her, why did she feel this weight on her shoulders still?”

“Second… Second Great War. Soldier. Children gone.” Choppy responses were the way that the woman communicated.

“That’s horrible,” Olivia sympathized with the ghost, “You don’t have to say anything else, if you want.” 

Static was her only answer.

Olivia Dior knew more than she led on. She knew that the ghost here was Catherine Snyder, a Jewish woman, who was married to General John Snyder. They had three lovely kids, Apollo Carter Snyder, Josephine Amber Snyder and their youngest boy: William Venus Snyder They were a wealthier family, with him in the Military and her family heritage. Her children were still very alive, so she had interviewed them.

Apollo explained how she baked the warmest, softest and tastiest chocolate chip cookies every Sunday morning, allowing the house to fill with the sweet scent.

Josephine explained her mother's glamour-- How when the milkman crossed her, he would ask if she was single. When she walked into the room and their father was there, he would pretend to faint.

William hadn’t offered much information, he explained how he was too young. He was the one who recommended talking to Josephine and Apollo. They were both older, while he was only five when his mother was gruesomely killed.

Everyone who had met her described her as ethereal, something that only heaven could have built. General John Snyder had a proper burial when he died, near a WW2 memorial. Catherine wasn’t given a proper burial, as she was found in her own home, sickeningly.

“You,” A voice, extremely real, whispered in her left ear, “Name?”

Olivia had gasped and looked around. Nothing! 

“Olivia Dior.” She repeated, even though she had already said her name.

She looked around again, only to see the table still. There was a dusty picture frame that sat atop, unbothered. Olivia looked at it, picking it up. It was strange the people who moved in hadn’t removed it… 

“Me.” The same voice whispered, making chills run up her back.

“You?” Olivia softly responded, wiping the glass with her pale hand.

A short woman who wore white, with dimples on either side of her face. She had her hands behind her back, the white dress falling to the ground in the picture. Long dark hair that came waving to her waist, that was dipped inwards. Straight teeth, clear skin… It was envy that ran through Olivia when she saw Catherine’s beauty.

“You were beautiful,” She speaks to the air around her, “Are there any more pictures?”

“Yes.” The voice whispered in her left ear now, terrifying Olivia.

Something touches her ear and the woman jumps back, until a familiar weight is on her shoulder.

“You are… Pretty,” An invisible force moves her hair behind her ear, “Lovely.”

“Thank you,” She flushes a beet red, “Would you show me the rest of the photos, Mrs. Snyder?”

“Call me… Catherine,” The force that moved her hair grabs her hand and they move towards a room at the end of the hall, a dark wooden door stopping them, “Door.”

Eagerly, the woman follows instructions. It made her feel foolish, trusting the entity to lead her to photos. The door opens and her hand reaches to flick on the light, the warm light illuminating a red velvet dream. Everything in the room was a different shade of red, it made her interior designer deep in her soul shudder.

There was a bed in the middle of the room that had the blankets being smoothed out by Catherine’s force. Green optics watched as a weight dipped the bed inwards, assuming it was Catherine climbing upon the bed and sitting on it. In the corner of the red room, there was a white dresser with gold accents on it. On the top of the dresser was a black leather book and it read, “Family Pictures”.

Grabbing the hefty book, she sat on the bed with Catherine and began to flip through the pages. The first page was a strong blonde man holding Catherine under his arm. His eyes, colored blue (she’s assuming), have a certain arrogance in them. He wears a suit as Catrina has her head resting on his chest. She wore a tiny sundress, coming to rest on her thighs.  
“...Prom.” A soft whisper explains.  
“Oh my gosh, you’re too pretty,” Olivia laughed to the air, “I see why you had a husband…”  
“...Bastard…” The voice gritted.

The next image was the same Catherine, but she looked tired. She had a smile on her face with her eyes just barely open. A little blonde baby resting on her chest, big eyes looking towards the camera.

“...Apollo.” The voice strained outward.

Olivia felt her heart pluck. She knew that was her son.

“He misses you,” The woman instinctively spoke, “Apollo, Josephine and William are still alive.”

“Children?” The voice wavers, as if she was going to cry.

“They’re all alive Catrina. They miss you dearly.” She confirms and the force comes to rest on her right side. It was chilling, but she couldn’t deny the ghost, “You can trust me. I won’t tell people that you’re here,” Olivia wraps her arms around the force, “I promise.”

The force has her arms around her securely, the cold air now hitting her chest.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


	3. 1939.

Apollo rested on his yellow bed, turning the page of Romeo and Juliet slowly, capturing the last word on the page to envision it in his creative mind. The two lovers were so young and so dumb, it was something he enjoyed reading. Classical books were his favorite, the reality of the authors were so different from the readers… He had to look at every perspective, it bloomed in his mind like a flower. 

“Apollo?” His mother’s voice pulled him out of his fake reality as she knocked on the door.  
“Come in, Momma,” He set the book down, smiling as she walked in, “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, deary. I just… you know about the whole… Adolf Hitler being elected as chandler and his plans, correct?” Her tone was worried as the older bed creaked with her sitting on it.

“Yes, I’ve kept up… Do you think anything will happen to us?” His eyebrows furrowed together, moving closer to his mom.

“...I don’t think so. Your father is a general, you know… I’m sure he’ll do anything to protect us,” Catherine sighed, wrapping her arm around him, “I wouldn’t be worried about it, dearest.”

“I know. I’m just nervous.” He closed his blue eyes, resting his head on her bosom.

“You have no need, honey. Do you want to read in the sunroom with your sister and brother? It’s 24 degrees outside,” She smiles and massages his scalp, “One of our warmest days.”

“The Americans would laugh at that, since… We work in celcius and they work farenheit,” Apollo chuckled, “I’ll enjoy this massage for a bit.”

“They work in farenheit? How strange…” She scrunches her nose, “...Do you want to move to America, Apollo? You seem to study their actions a lot.”

“I do! I think they’ll have amazing opportunities when I become an adult,” The blonde boy looks up to her, “Have you ever been there, Momma?”

“Not once,” The brunette shook her head, “Why would I move there when I have everyone I need here?”

She pushes an affectionate kiss into his head, smelling the lavender shampoo. He wrapped his arms around her waist and enjoyed the affectionate motherly side of her. His father was usually gone to war or some military post, so Catherine had to step up as both of the parents. Unlike most boys his age, he was willing to be more “feminine”-- It was all an argument between John and Catherine, with Catherine standing up on the table to scream at him… Humorous to witness but terrifyingly loud to listen to. 

“..I’ll go read with Josephine and see William,” He pushed himself off of her and picked up the paperback book, “I love you, Momma.”

“I love you too, my sun god.” She smiled as they walked out of the room together, Apollo rushing down the carpeted stairs and sliding on the vinyl flooring, nearly slipping as Catherine laughed, going downstairs slowly.

Her eyes watched as her children were gathered in the pearl colored sunroom. Josephine was stretched in the corner where the sun shone through the flimsy curtains, dark head of hair resting in her arms, sleeping the afternoon away. William sat with Apollo, scrambling to get his small body up in his lamp. Apollo held William close, arms wrapped around his waist as they read Romeo and Juliet together. The sight was enough to cause tears to gather in her eyes. Catherine loved her angels more than anything… She would gather all the colors for them and paint them a mural if she could.

Pushing herself off of the wall she was leaning on, she walked over to the living room, sitting upon the gray couch. She allowed herself to relish in the chirp of the bluebirds and robins outside, closing her eyes. It painted a picture of yellow and blue in her mind, swirling around until they became a teal. It made her—

Rapid knocks on the front door interrupted her moment.

“Give me a minute!” She yelled as she stood up from the couch, but more knocks only followed.

With a puff of anger escaping through her nose, the brunette stormed over to the door and yanked it open. There stood John and another soldier, her eyes widening.

“John, honey, oh my--” A wide smile spread across her face, dimples appearing as she excitedly began to greet her husband.

“--We need to talk, Catherine.”


	4. 1939, later that day.

“I need to further rank in the military and I cannot have you holding me back.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Catherine. You’re a Jewish woman.”

Betrayal pricked her heart. She felt like she was being poisoned, stabbed and shot at once. Silence blanketed the living room, encasing Catherine in a cold embrace and John in an uncomfortable iron grip.

“...You’re joking,” The brunette gulped, “John, you’re kidding me.”

“I’m not,” He looked away, “I’m taking the kids away. Nobody will know that they’re half Jewish, they all look German.”

Tears began immediately spilling from brown eyes as she looked up at him. There was no remorse in his eyes… Her mother had told her that John was selfish.

“You bastard!” Catherine screamed, grabbing his green shirt, pulling him down to her height.

“Let go of me, Catherine.” He warned, eyes uncaring as she shook him with her small fists tight.

Incoherent sobs broke out of her like a stammering record as she rocked him back and forth. The man didn’t make an attempt to stop her, he knew that he was tearing her away from his family but she wasn’t as important as his success. He was giving his children the life that they deserved and if that meant their mother leaving, then so be it.

“I said,” He grabbed her hands and shoved her backward, “to let go of me, you ignorant bitch.”

“I’m the ignorant one!?” She screamed, hands flying upwards as she stumbled backward.

“Yes, good god, you’re so dramatic, shut up, would you?” John rolled his eyes, pressing a gloved hand to the bridge of his nose.

Catherine shoved her white sleeves up, and just as he let his hand drop back down to his side, her right fist jabbed at his nose and he groaned in pain as the strong fist knocked his head back.

“You left your own fucking family for months on end, you would leave to go slaughter my own people and I would have to lay down in bed next to your sinful hands,” Her teeth gritted as his gloves became blood stained, “You would brag about it to our son and- and- goddamit!” She screamed as she stomped into the carpet.

He pulled his hand back, in shock as blood trickled down his nose and to his lips. Her screaming was powerful, he couldn’t stop watching her eyes flare in anger and her red lipstick become slightly smeared.

“You laid down multiple times with me, don’t act as if you didn’t like it.” He sneered.

“Did you know a woman fakes her orgasms?” She got close to his face, standing on her tiptoes, still not tall enough to be eye to eye.

“I’m sure you did, hence why we have three kids and a few miscarriages on our record,” John whispered to her, watching as her eyes widened at the reminder, “You couldn’t keep up.”

“You lousy, entitled, disgusting--” She began, but a slam of lips shut her mouth.

The taste of blood washed around in their mouths, as Catherine’s smaller hand wrapped around his neck, bringing him in closer. Their skin was red stained, either from carmine dyed lipstick or blood. He groaned into her mouth when she squeezed his neck, but she pulled back, having a deadly grasp on his neck.

“--Don’t think you can distract me, I know you are weak for me.” She hissed.

“You make me weak and that’s why I have to kill you.” His blue eyes widened with an angry passion in them and that caused her to pull away in shock.

Catherine trembled, the idea of her husband killing her terrified her. For better or for worse, the priest had proclaimed. How worse could worse be before it was too much?

“ELIAS!” His voice yelled and another blonde man came uniformly.

“Yes, General Snyder?” The man asked obediently.

“Get rid of my wife after I take the kids away.” John sighed, taking the bloodied glove off and leaving it on the ground.

He exited the living room, with the background noise of children laughing excitedly horrifying Catherine. The brown eyed woman looked to Elias, who was staring down at her like she was dirt. She immediately averted her gaze, looking to the white glove with pinkish spots on it.

“Where are we going?” William’s childish voice crossed the living room.

“To the Zoo, my boy.” John laughed heartily and Catherine began to gasp for air.

Her world felt dizzy, everything was blending together. The gray couch had become one big blur as she fell to her knees, ignoring the lightning flashes of pain in her body. She clutched her head as she weeped, listening to the front door close.

“Get up,” His voice commanded respect, but all she did was look up to him with tears streaming down the sides of her face, “Jesus, get up. You’re disgusting.”

She shook her head, but before she could manage to stand up, a hand wretched into her hair and stood her up forcefully, ignoring her screams of pain.

“Let me go!” Catherine managed with sharp gasps of air and tears of pain.

Elias reached into his belt with his left hand and shoved the barrel against her chest, heartbeat racing. She slowly turned her head, eyes doey like sheep’s eyes. His blue eyes were completely dull, no emotion or light. Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself to sob openly. Like a farmer killing for the market, he pulled the trigger and her body fell limp and backwards, hitting the carpet easily.

The last image she witnessed was his boots storming out of the room, as if he didn’t shoot her in the chest. She could feel the blood beginning to drain out of her, she knew there wasn’t much time left. Her white dress was ruined.

All Catherine could think about was her carpets and dress being ruined with her own blood.


	5. 2018.

“Mom,” Olivia sighed through her nostrils, “I’ll come home soon, my lease doesn’t end til’ May of next year.”

“I want to see my baby!” The shrill voice yelled, causing Olivia to cringe and hold the phone away.

“You will! There’s always Thanksgiving, your birthday, Christmas-- Mom, there’s no need to worry about it,” She laughs, ‘I--”

Knocking interrupts the banter. Who would knock on her door at 11 am on a Sunday? She never conversed with her neighbors, but… she knew them at least. Maybe it was someone asking for sugar.

“-Gotta go… Someone knocked on the door. Love ya, bye.” She hung up, pressing herself to the wall and stalking towards her door.

Another gentle knock and Olivia sighed. What good is procrastinating going to do? Mustering up the little confidence she has, she strides up to the front door and opens it. In front of her is a dark haired woman, much shorter than her. In her small hands, is a white plate of cookies. The woman is wearing a white turtleneck and jeans that are cuffed with kitten heels. Olivia couldn’t deny how pretty she was.

“I just baked these,” Her voice is soft, “I figured… that you might want them.”

“Me?” Olivia raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“You.” The plate is extended towards her.

She… doesn’t want to be rude. With a smile, she takes the plate and holds it. It’s warm to the touch and the sweet scent wafts over her, causing hunger to rise in her stomach.

“Thank you.” Olivia nods respectfully.

“No,” She laughs and curls a piece of dark hair behind her ear, “Thank you, Olivia.”

The dark haired woman turns on her heels and clicks down the stone staircase. The woman turns around into her own house-- Wait, who was she?

“Hey-!” Olivia called out, but… nobody was there. The neighborhood was absolutely silent. Not a single disturbance.

She sighs… Maybe the pretty woman was in a rush? But running in heels was hard… Whatever, it didn’t matter much to Olivia. Closing her door shut with the heel of her foot, she carries the plate to the table. Unwrapping the plastic wrap, she sees a note atop of the cookies.

In the daintiest of cursive, a soft blue note reads…

Dear Olivia,  
I hadn’t a clue where to find you, but I eventually found you! Thank you for seeing me that one special night. Feel free to visit Germany! I’d love your company again. Enjoy my cookies, would you? My children always did. I… thank you. You were sweet to me then, so here is a sweet treat for you.  
Sincerely with my love,  
your favorite ghost, Catherine Snyder.  
Or, Mrs. Snyder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, you’ve made it to the end! i hope you enjoyed this and uhh yeah! i really like this little story and plan to see more of my original works in the future! <3


End file.
